


Saving You

by Dahlia_Moon



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Flangst?, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Misunderstandings, birthday fic, vague season 2 timeline
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-31
Updated: 2012-07-31
Packaged: 2017-11-11 04:13:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/474375
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dahlia_Moon/pseuds/Dahlia_Moon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>Stiles stumbled into bed with Derek pretty much the same way he stumbled into everything else in life – purely by accident.</em>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Saving You

**Author's Note:**

  * For [gladdecease](https://archiveofourown.org/users/gladdecease/gifts).



> For the ever lovely and awesome [**gladdecease**](http://www.archiveofourown.org/users/gladdecease/) for her birthday.
> 
> (Also this is where I say I'm sorry I suddenly forgot how to write; let's not talk about how very much I suck at plotty fics but I hope she'll enjoy this fic regardless.)

Stiles stumbled into bed with Derek pretty much the same way he stumbled into everything else in life – purely by accident.

Derek told him he was driving him crazy, and Stiles couldn't shut his mouth and the next thing he knew he was flat on his back on his bedroom floor with one very strong, chiseled werewolf on top of him. It was kinda hot – OK, very hot – so he couldn't be blamed for what he did next; any self-aware, sorta questioning his sexual identity, sixteen year old boy would've done the same thing in his shoes, really. 

He surged upwards, cupping the back of Derek's head, a soft pressure there; not quite romantic, but intimate, a very deliberate touch. He was probably not going to survive this surprise attack so he might as well enjoy it. 

\----

It was a miracle that he was alive and not werewolf meat by now, yes, Stiles was aware of that and grateful for it, but what was more of a miracle was that Derek, the cold, brooding, forever alone werewolf, didn't run away or anything. There was a moment where time froze, and Stiles' bravado pushed him to connect his dry lips to Derek's, where he could feel Derek's breath leave him shocked and rooted to the spot. 

This would either be awkward or hot, or awkwardly hot because Stiles' didn't have a lot of experience when it came to kissing but he closed his eyes and in the moment, for a second, he and Derek shared one breath. 

And even if it never went anywhere, even if Derek would come to his senses and push himself away, disgusted, this - just one simple, all-too-brief moment of their lips touching - would be enough. 

Of course time sped up again, a car alarm ringed off in the distance, a dog barked outside and what Stiles was pretty sure was his dad's car could be heard coming up the driveway through the open window. 

And Derek disappeared when Stiles blinked. 

\----

They never talked about it, of course, but they did fuck a lot after wards; when Stiles' dad was at work, late at night when everybody was supposed to be sleeping, Derek would slip into his room. 

Of course the realization came quickly that they were nothing more than fuckbuddies to each other. They weren't friends, they didn't even trust each other, though Stiles' knees felt weak whenever he saw Derek and he was pretty sure he was majorly crushing on Derek. But Derek was older than him and more experienced and what could he possibly see in an awkward sixteen year old with ADHD and a smart mouth?

\----

He got out of school to find Derek leaning against his car, an unreadable expression on his face. 

“I have to leave.”

“Leave? Where are you going?”

“Just somewhere.”

Stiles gripped his backpack tightly. “Uh, is it Alpha related business or...?”

“No, it's personal. Just something I need to do.”

If they were more than fuckbuddies maybe Stiles would be brave enough to ask, but he wasn't and so he didn't. 

\----

He didn't know what he was doing here. Derek was gone – at least he had said goodbye but that was about it. Stiles didn't know when Derek would be back, or if he was even coming back and wasn't that a kick in the nuts. 

Yet that didn't deter Stiles from coming to Derek's dilapidated, half-burned house hoping to find him staring in that brooding manner of his through the windows. He started looking around, not knowing what he wanted to find, if he wanted to find anything or if being in Derek's house was somehow going to make Stiles feel closer to Derek. 

He got up to the top of the stairs when he felt it: a creepy feeling crawling up his back that he wasn't alone. But he shook it off - besides Derek, who would want to hang around this place? 

He took a few steps forward and that was when the gunfire started, shattering the windows and blasting through the front door. _Ohshitohshitohshitohshit_. He was so going to die – a horrible, horrible death by the Argents, blood splattered everywhere, his mangled body would probably be found miles from the house, unrecognizable. He dreaded to think what would happen to his dad – to lose someone he loved again. And he was really a moron for getting himself into these kinds of things, why couldn't he just leave well enough alone? He started running back toward the way he came and was inches from the door when he felt a bullet sink into his leg. He went down, head swimming with pain, and warm blood oozing onto the floorboards. 

He was so screwed. 

\----

“Stiles! This is the dumbest thing you've ever done!”

Scott was fuming in his hospital room. Pacing, a wild erratic look in his eyes like he wanted to let the wolf out but was trying very hard to keep it contained. 

“It wasn't my fault! I'm the victim here.”

“If it hadn't been for Derek, you wouldn't have even made it to the hospital.”

“I know! But, really, when you think about it, maybe I would've been okay? I mean, they just _thought_ I was Derek; they didn't know I was just me.”

Scott scowled at him. Stiles shrugged sheepishly. Really, he knew what an idiot he was. 

\----

Sheriff Stilinski helped his son up to his bedroom, tucking him into bed as if he was eight years old again. 

“Scott was by your side from the minute I called him. Allison came with that girl Lydia, Jackson and Danny visited too, as did the rest of your lacrosse team mates.”

“No one else?” Stiles asked, hoping not to sound too eager.

His dad looked at him strangely. “Who else were you expecting?”

“N – no one.” He couldn't explain to his dad that he was expecting Derek Hale, someone he accused of murder and tried to get arrested and whom he had sex with pretty much every time they got together. It wasn't so much Derek's gender that was the problem as the whole having, technically, underage sex - and with someone who was older than him. 

His dad kissed him on top of his head, and said good night. 

Of course, sleep wouldn't come. He lied on his back, staring at the ceiling, red eyes staring back at him and he couldn't close his eyes though his body was screaming for sleep. He didn't know what he was waiting for, but an hour and a half later it climbed through his bedroom window and the tension seeped out of Stiles, like the sight of Derek's silhouette was a calming drug or something. 

“We have to stop meeting like this,” Stiles said, when it became apparent Derek was just going to hang out by the window, being silent and brooding. 

It wasn't that he didn't get a thrill from having Derek sneak into his room – because that would always inevitably lead to them having sexy times – but he wasn't up to carnal pleasures tonight. He wished Derek would spend the night with him though, without it having to mean they'd fuck. He felt safe with Derek, as surprising as it was to admit, if only to himself, and after all he went through in the last couple days, all he wanted was to feel safe. Yet he didn't know if this meant Derek would be staying in Beacon Hills or what. 

“I came to check on you.” 

"Well, now that you've seen that I'm still breathing, your duty is done and you can leave."

"Do you want me to leave?"

"No."

"Good, because I wasn't planning on it."

"I - I uh can't." Stiles was thankful for the darkness, otherwise he'd never be able to live down how red his face had gotten. 

It was dangerously silent. Stiles didn't know he was holding his breath until he felt a breathy sigh leave him when he saw Derek inching closer. 

Derek shook off his leather jacket, throwing it haphazardly onto Stiles' computer chair before he got under the covers with Stiles. Stiles realized Derek was being hyper aware of his wounded leg, not throwing his own leg underneath Stiles' like he had a penchant for doing, but gently pressing his leg right next to Stiles' bandaged one. He turned Stiles' head under the crook of his arm, a reassuring pressure that eased, if not all of Stiles' physical aches, then his emotional ones; at least for this one night. 

"Go to sleep, if you can. I'll try to stay until the morning," Derek whispered into his hair.

Derek's hands started rubbing Stiles' arms in a gentle, repetitive and soothing motion, his body emanating warmth like a furnace. And for once - though it certainly wouldn't be the last time, especially where Derek Hale was concerned - Stiles was left speechless.


End file.
